


The South Side of South Park

by TheOreoWritesAgain (orphan_account)



Series: The South Side of South Park [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universes, Clowns, Demons, Drug Use, Emotional Trauma, F/F, Fourth Wall Breaking, M/M, Minecraft, Mutual Pining, Other, Slice of Life, Superheroes, Zombies, abortions, extreme fourth wall breaking, homo everywhere, more to be added - Freeform, south park original character, unhealthy coping methods, zombie clowns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-11-08 05:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20829887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheOreoWritesAgain
Summary: Follow the misadventures of some of the other kids in South Park as they face the ridiculous consequences of their equally ridiculous actions- while the Audience watches it all.Don't acknowledge the Audience.





	1. So, What Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warren and his friends go through a normal school day until the FBI and aliens ruin it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Made some major updates to this, there WILL be a Season Two, and updates WILL be weekly starting next Sunday. 
> 
> ... Because of school and because it's taking me a bit to write so much. 
> 
> ... Have a nice week!

"... Something just began," a boy noticed, looking up.

"Hm? Whatcha mean, Warren?"

Warren Asphodel was with two of his friends at the entrance of South Park Elementary, both of them wondering what was up with him.

"I don't know, but it's something." he replied, frowning at the sky.

The red haired girl asking him, his Super Best Friend #1 Theodora, huffed. "Well, whatever this something is, it better be interesting."

"But not 'interesting' to the point where we almost die," the short boy in the blue beanie, aka Super Best Friend #2, interjected, "I like staying alive."

"Can't you be in your positive mood today, JP?" Theo asked, to which she was earned a shrug from JP.

"... Sorry for bringing it up," Warren sighed, turning back to them, "Now I'm probably going to get us all late for school because of me, and we're just standing at the doors."

Theo smirked. "Probably not. Want me to set the-"

"Maaayyybbbbeeee not today, Thee-Thee?" he tried, pushing down the hand she had removed a fingerless glove from slowly. She frowned. "... Okay."

"Glad we got that settled," JP said, and with that, he ran ahead of his friends and into the school.

Just as the doors closed, a car crashed into another one parked across the street.

And another car crashed into that.

And another.

And then just as a small group of people stopped to gawk at the mess, the doors of all the cars opened, and four pairs of aliens hopped out of them, all wearing trench coats, all given stares of dumbfounded shock as they tottered away to who knows where, softly mooing amongst themselves.

\-----

Math class had begun thirty minutes ago, and JP Bautista was hosting a multi-player game of Minecraft on his phone.

It wasn't as hard as you'd think. His small size was perfect for him to hide with since he sat near the back with the window at the right side of his head, and he had propped up a textbook to stand up to make hiding his phone from the teacher easier. As for the multu-player part, he had mobile data. His parents would probably complain about the phone bill, but they found a lot of things to complain about.

"Now onto the third question, which is three over five times one over four." said their teacher, Mr. Bart, scribbling the last kid's answer to the previous equation. He pointed a piece of chalk at Theodora, who was playing on JP's server while Warren tried not to attract attention to her. "Miss Hamish, would you like to tell the class your an-"

"Two point four, or twelve over five if you're not going to divide," Theo answered loudly, focusing on preventing her house from being blown up by a gang of creepers dead set on fucking her over.

Mr. Bart stared. He usually forgot how good at math Theo was, so everytime he asked her anything during this class she almost always gave the correct answer.

"... Thank you," he finally said, the chalk scratching as he put down the answer. Theo hummed, as if to illustrate that she was pleased with his ever-consistent surprise.

"And then for this next one," Mr. Bart continued, "Can anyone tell me-"

"Six over six, which becomes one," Theo blurted again, still not looking up. More surprised silence from the teacher, before the scritch-scratch of chalk came back as well as him continuing his lecture. Some sighs of relief could be heard if you listened hard enough.

JP briefly looked up from his phone, glanced at the back rows, then typed a message in game as quickly as he could (which was very quick).

**[bepbopbitch: thanks, theo. saved all our asses there from detention if he called on one of us]**

As soon as he had sent his message, a bunch more popped up on the upper left corner of his screen. Messages from the five other players scattered across the classroom, all of them begrudging thank you messages as well. He frowned and typed another message.

**[bepbopbitch: give her your genuine gratitude or i'm ratting you all out on mr bart]**

Radio silence. Then more messages, this time more pleasant and ready to feed the ego of a certain girl. He smirked. This was the kind of thanks his friend deserved.

The bell rang outside, and students got up from their seats and headed outside. The kids playing Minecraft gave JP their thanks before heading out. Then JP himself left, too, still using his phone but somehow not bumping into anything.

Had he stayed in his seat longer and looked out the window, he would have seen a beam of blue light shine on the snowy grounds outside, and observed more trench coated aliens descend from the mothership.

\-----

Being the head witch of the Southern Coven, Theodora Hamish had responsibilities. One of those responsibilities was heading the meeting happening at the shady lunch table at the far side of the cafeteria, where a dozen witches crowded together to fit on the benches.

"So," Theodora began, lacing her fingers, "Would you all like to know why I called you here? Hm?"

Dozens of guilty eyes looked away from her. Someone coughed.

She sighed, putting a hand to her head. "I called you here because you failed doing the assignment I assigned you last Saturday. Which was to recruit volunteers for Mabon. Why didn't you do it? You had two days to do it."

More guilty silence.

"... Is it because of Mud?"

Finally, some eyes looked up from fiddling thumbs. "Yeah, him and those Vamp kids."

Oh boy, she thought, not him again.

"How about I deal with him while you guys go catch up on your assignment?" she suggested, standing up and waving her hand. Taking this as a sign of dismissal, the witches gratefully stood up as well and began heading for other tables, putting on their best persuasive manners.

Blondie Hüphes, the girl witch trailing after her that served as the Coven's secretary, tapped her on the shoulder. "Theo, are you sure you'll be fine?"

"Don't worry so much," Theodora smiled back, "What's a twerp like him supposed to do to me?"

"We all know he's a twerp, but when he talks..." Blondie shivered, remembering her previous encounters with the disturbing foe. "Just remembering what he said last time still makes me cringe. He's almost worse than Cartman on verbal terms."

"Hey hey, I said don't worry," Theodora shushed, putting a hand on her head (Blondie was kinda small for her age), "I've dealt with worse."

With that, they had arrived at the table seating the one and only cursed man: Allison Mud.

Allison was currently bombarding the poor ears of the poor souls that dare sit near him. Theo cleared her throat loudly, and Allison looked up at her with a grin she hated so much.

"Hey, big lady! You just missed me telling the others the good news!"

She arched an eyebrow. "... What good news?"

"Well, didn't you hear?" he puffed his despicable chest out proudly. "I'm replacing you as the Coven leader!"

An eye twitched, and Blondie gripped Theodora's arm tightly. "Who says so?"

Allison's grin grew wider, revealing cavities he often denied of. "I did. I thought you were too irresponsible to be a leader, so I thought that humble old me should step up."

Low blow, bro. Low blow.

Supressing the urge to smash his misshapen head into his plate of spaghetti, Theodora returned him a shaky, fake smile. "Okay, good for you. You wanna hear some good news from me, Mud?"

He nodded. "Sure!"

"Okay, all I need is your hand for this."

Not knowing what she was about to do, Allison willingly gave her his grubby hand.

Theodora took his thumb and snapped it at an impossible angle. "I officially declare you a piece of shit."

The scream that emanated from him gave her a feeling of satisfaction as he fell off his seat and rolled around the floor, howling in pain and clenching his hand. Laughs could be heard around, and even Blondie loosened her grip and giggled.

At least, until Theodora felt a presence behind her.

"What is the meaning of this, Hamish?"

\-----

"So she's stuck in detention??" Warren gasped in horror as Blondie delivered them the news.

"Yeah, shocking, right?" Blondie said, wringing her hands.

JP looked up from his phone, frowning. "And you're saying that she got it because she broke Allison's thumb? That's fucked up, he kinda deserved that."

Warren nodded. "True, true. He harassed me for having long hair. Who does that, still?"

Just then, an alarm blared through the speakers of the library, followed by the panicked voice of an adult.

"Attention to all students, there is a group of aliens in the school! Please evacuate as quickly as possible, while FBI personnel will take care of the threa-"

The voice was cut off with screaming and blasts of a gun one would only hear from a sci-fi movie. Radio static crackled through for a few seconds before the announcement ended. The three kids looked at each other.

"... So that was weird," was the first thing JP said to break the silence.

"Yeah, why would the police call Mexicans that?" Warren frowned, "That's racist."

"Racist or not, I'm outta here," Blondie said, moving towards a boarded up window, "Y'all have fun rescuing Theo."

JP stood up. "Wait, how do you know we're going to rescue her?" Blondie looked back, shrugged, then pried off a couple boards and climbed through the hole, joining a bunch of other kids who had already escaped.

The two boys stood in the empty library, the muffled screams of kids, gunshots and laserblasts finding their way to their ears.

"... Guess we should start running for the cafeteria," Warren said.

\-----

The hallways were a bizarre sight, and that was something in itself for someone living in South Park.

On the floor lay human and alien blood mixing together, hues of deep crimson and soft lavenders pooling out of their respective corpses. JP saw an alien body at one point, and nearly threw up when he saw how the long, spindly hand was melted to the handle of its ray gun.

More and more bodies littered the floor, most of them adults from the FBI and aliens, and very rarely was a child corpse found. The two of them tried not to gag from the smell and at the same time squeeze into hiding spots as aliens ran by, mooing in panic as gunshots and human voices chased after them. The ear bleeding bangs echoed constantly, overshadowing the softer blasts of alien ray guns.

Warren was already used to hearing the gunshots in these corridors, but with an alien invasion mixed in it only hit him on how serious this all actually was.

"Why would aliens even come here??" JP gasped, out of breath from when they were running from a group of FBI agents. He leaned against the door of the closet they crammed themselves into.

Warren peeked through the gap underneath, checking for the telltale shadows of feet. "I'm not sure," he murmured, "aliens don't really like monologuing about their plans unlike in the movies."

"If they did, that would be a much better convenience for us," JP growled, "same thing if the American Government told us all about their shitty ideas so that the actual decent people could make their move. You Americans are full of crap."

"... No offense."

"Don't worry, you're not wrong." Warren squinted at the shadows outside.

There was a thump, then a thundering gunshot, and he recoiled as alien blood splattered his eyes and face.

"_'Tangina_! You okay??" JP exclaimed, moving from his spot as worry etched his face.

Warren sat up, licked his fingers, then began rubbing out the alien blood from his left eye first. "Yeah, just gimme a few seconds. I'm not sure if this stuff is permanent or not."

JP gagged, but gave him his space anyways, trying not to look at how the slender boy wiped away at both his eyes. Once that was done, he stood up, wiped off the rest of the blood from his face so that it instead stained his jacket, and opened the closet door.

Right outside of it was another dead alien, the stench of gunpowder still hanging in the air.

And beside the body was a ray gun, still intact unlike all the others they've seen.

Warren and JP looked at each other. "... You want to try it?"

"Hey! Why are you asking me, huh?? Just because I'm like this doesn't automatically make me the weapons expert! I wasn't made for being a war machine!" JP complained, gesturing at his normal(?) squishy boy body.

Warren squinted. "You were able to reactivate a bomb just by touching it, I'm sure you can handle an alien weapon."

JP sighed, but made no more complaints as he crouched down and reached out to pick it up. When he touched it, however, the gun melded to his skin and he let out a yelp.

Warren was about to move in, but JP just held out his hand. "Wait, wait, wait!!"

"Wait for what??" he asked, throwing out his hands, "you just absorbed a ray gun! Is this supposed to be normal??"

"Wait for me to try out something, you idiot!" JP hissed, holding his palm out at the wall in front of him. His eyebrows bunched together as he concentrated, and his palm began to glow.

A beam of burning light burst from his skin and into the wall, the force of the blast knocking him into Warren's legs.

They gaped at the big hole it burned open, seeing what was going on at the other side.

"... _Okay_."

\-----

"You kids are not going out there, no matter what! M'Kay!" Mr. Mackey said, pointing at the doors of the cafeteria. "Even if a school shooting or whatever is going on, this is detention! You got what you deserved! And get your fucking feet off the table, Theo!!"

Theodora frowned as she refused his orders, her boots firmly laid on the table in front of her. "No."

Mr. Mackey sneered. "What did you say?? Huh??"

"I said, no. Fuck you," she huffed, holding up a finger. Kids gasped, their soft sounds muffled by the bangs, zaps, and screams outside.

To her distaste, Mr. Mackey wasn't as silent as they were. "Young lady, do you want me to make you stay overnight?? I'll fucking call your parents!! I'll do it right now, how about that?? Huh??"

Her mouth opened, but before words (specifically, bitchy ones) could come out, a large blast of light destroyed the wall just to the guidance counselor's right, missing her hair by an inch. Kids screamed as they dove out of the way.

She stared wide eyed at the hole, and at who had most likely made it.

"There you are, Theo!" Warren exclaimed, standing behind a shell-shocked JP whose hand was extended outwards. "Guess we got lucky with his little experimenting, huh? Come on, let's get you guys out of there!"

A moment of silence, before excited yells came from the other detention kids as they ran towards the two boys. "Hey hey hey hey!! I said no fucking getting out of detention!!" Mr. Mackey yelled, tried and failing grandly at corralling the kids back in, "Drag your fucking asses back in here, right now!! M'Kay!!"

"Go shove your crap-brained head in a porta potty, goose balls!" Theodora called out, shoving him two fingers before she and the others scrambled away.

\-----

It was a lovely, calm afternoon, compared to the fuckass weirdest school shooting. Theodora and JP were having an ice cream eating competition.

"That's cheating!" Theodora complained in between shovels of rocky road and cranberry, "You're melting it into soup!"

"Well, so are you!" JP shot back, shoveling flavors of mint chip and green apple in his mouth and trying to put a straw in his gigantic bowl.

Theodora took a risky pause to her speed scooping and stuck out her tounge. "It ain't my fault I'm naturally hot!"

That technically was true. Her hands were glowing with invisible heat and were gripping the sides of her equally large bowl.

Warren and another boy sat off to the side, watching their two friends with interest as they ate from their much smaller ice cream cones. The boy was savoring the taste, licking at the sides with calculated licks, while Warren just bit into the cold cream treat.

"What kind of eating competition is this?" The boy asked, pointing at them with his pinky.

"The kind where both parties are cheating, unfortunately," Warren sighed, "They're far too competitive for their own good, E."

E hummed, and took another lick. His lack of facial expression didn't change.

"... Warren, stop biting your ice cream. You're scaring me."


	2. Warren's Spooky Black Goo!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warren brings a pot of demon ink pesto to a potluck and accidentally gets the adults a new addiction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hhhhhhhh the ending was so rusheddddd
> 
> But yeah, here's the second chapter! The next one will focus on JP and have Theodora as a subplot, but until then, I'll be busy doing other stuff. See you soon~

The pitter patter of the fattest rain drops Theodora had ever seen splashed against the window she gazed out of, the streets melancholy gray and coated in a thick layer of water.

A stark contrast to Warren's bedroom, with its dry, cozy pillows everywhere and its surprisingly comforting atmosphere.

"How do you manage to make anyone who steps inside your house melt into a cozy puddle when your family is South Park's equivalent of the Addams family?" Theodora asked, turning back to face the boys.

Warren looked up from the laptop where he and JP were doodling on MS Paint, his long, black hair out of his hat and tied into a ponytail. "Bwuh?"

"... Never mind," she sighed. "And JP, stop hogging Warren so much. You've been glued to his side ever since we got here and that's pretty gay."

JP looked up from the laptop and blushed furiously. "Well excuse me, but I'm not the one at the window doing a shonen protagonist monologue in her head!"

Now it was Theodora's turn to blush. "Well excuse me, but fuck you!"

Before an argument could form properly and kill them all, someone knocked at the door before opening it, revealing himself to be Warren's dad, still in his medical scrubs from the hospital. "Hey, kids! You got an appetite yet?"

"Mr. Asphodel, we always have one, and are ready for what grand feast you've set up for us," Theodora replied, the blush settling down enough for her to not seem like her face was about to explode in a burst of blood.

He laughed. "Good to see you also worked up a sense of humor! And please, call me Hermes."

"Like the guy with the snakes on the stick?" JP asked, moving to stand up. "I sometimes see him at the pharmacy."

"No, that's his Roman equivalent Mercury," Hermes corrected, "And he isn't half as handsome as the original." He lifted up his hand and waved it towards himself, beckoning them to follow him downstairs.

The small troupe of friends, corralled by one stringpole of a man with hair covering his eyes, soon arrived at the dining table, where Delilah, Warren's mom, was placing a giant turkey on the center of the table. She looked up and smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. "You all took long enough! What exactly were you kids doing upstairs?"

Hermes shrugged. "What kids do, Deli. You know how it is."

Delilah shot a look at her husband for the nickname, and sat down at the head of the table. "Well, whatever Satanic ritual was going on up there must need filled up stomachs to continue. Satan can wait."

The kids all shot for the table and claimed seats for themselves, Warren sitting beside his mom, JP sitting beside him, and Theodora sitting beside JP, noting that once again, JP was at Warren's side like a lap dog.

... They somehow reminded her of two certain kids from their school.

She decided not to dwell too much on those thoughts.

E walked into the kitchen, wearing an oversized bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, and sat between Theodora and Hermes, a trail of steam following him. His wavy brown hair was soft and fluffy, a stark contrast to his usual homeless bum grease, and he reeked of fruity shampoo. Though the fact that he was clean for a change didn't stop him from sweeping the bushy mass to his right, revealing the ugly, deep scars that marred the left half of his scalp and chipped the tip of his ear.

Theodora stared at him. E noticed her stare and pointed at the turkey. "I killed that and got covered in its blood. That's why I took a bath."

"... Huh."

So _that's_ how they got the turkey.

She decided not to dwell on that thought either and moved to get herself a nice chunk from the turkey's breast, JP muttering to himself a prayer of thanks before moving to get his share.

The table was ablaze with friendly chatter as they dug into the food. Hermes dramatically revealed that he worked a side job as an online comedian when he wasn't at the hospital, and was making everyone (save for E, who just creased his brow as if he forgot what humor was) laugh almost hard enough to throw up. JP actually threw up a slimy chunk of turkey and potato goop, before putting it back into his mouth, Warren gagging when he saw.

"So, Theo," Delilah said after another laughing fit, "How's the planning for next week's potluck going on?"

Oh, yeah! The potluck! She had nearly forgotten about that when she had come in that stormy afternoon.

Theodora shrugged as she swallowed another mouthful of goop. "We're getting there. The alien invasion that happened a few weeks ago kind of put everyone on edge, so we're trying to figure out whether we'd need security or not."

Hermes nodded wisely, crumbs forming a little beard on his chin. "Smart move, though you little ladies and gentlemen could probably defend yourselves easily. I've been taught to never trust anyone who can turn a jar of pickled cacti and dung into a projectile from my great grandmother."

"That's because his great grandmother nearly killed my Aunt Charybdis when she missed her target." Delilah added, munching on a spoonful of salad.

Theodora arched an eyebrow playfully. "Who was her intended target, then?"

"The Pope."

"Cool!"

Theodora sneaked herself more scoops of mashed potatoes as they laughed at her spontaneous exclamation, despite her turkey already drowning in the sea of potatoes on her plate, and squinted suspiciously at the bowl of black pasta beside the salad.

She didn't trust anything that fumed so much, and began to worry when Warren got a huge fourth helping from the bowl.

"Warren, are you sure that's not made out of tar or anything?" she asked, pointing at the steamy bundle of blackness twisted around the fork that was on the way to his mouth.

He put down the fork and frowned, void black stains splattered on his thin lips. "What do you mean?"

"You probably have a different diet from us normals," she pouted, "but that doesn't mean that you guys don't have standards. Does that stuff even taste good?"

Warren laughed, as if Theodora's question was what a toddler would ask about food they weren't familiar with. Which wasn't completely wrong, in this case. "Of course, silly! Want to try some?"

"Uh, no thanks-"

But it was too late, and his fork was already an inch away from her lips. The stench was overwhelming, like if Beelzebub had diarrhea and had his shit dumped on a pile of salty whale corpses, and for the longest few seconds of her life, she wished that humans never developed their sense of smell.

"... Please tell me you're joking."

But he wasn't. Those big blue eyes of his said so, filled with happy excitement.

Goddamnit. He made her break her own back over things he wanted, even when he never tried to.

Swallowing down her bile and pinching her nose, she sighed. "Fine. But if I puke, it's your fault."

"Yay!" Warren squeaked, and his parents, serving as their unceremonious audience, clapped as she grabbed his fork and shoved the smelly black mass of stringy goop in her mouth.

Immediately, her tastebuds began to experience an ecstasy only experienced in Nirvana, and Theodora took back all her insults on the spot. It was heavenly, beyond god tier. The sauce melted in her mouth, an orchestra of flavors complete with a flowing, grassy essence that weaved in and out with the more solid presence of garlic, and a mist that was both sweet and savory presented the flavorful melody in a neat little bow. The pasta noodles had the taste of the sea soaked in them, resulting in her to imagine an endless ocean, pitch black blobs of seals (seals were her favorite animals) adrift peacefully in the still water.

Literal tears formed in her eyes, and Hermes whooped as she grabbed the bowl and shoveled pasta onto her potato swarmed plate. JP observed it all in surprise, seeing how frantically she downed each mouthful of black spaghetti with unbridled joy.

"You wanna try some, too?" Warren asked, tapping his shoulder gently and offering his fork to him the same way.

JP pursed his lips for a moment before taking the fork. "Guess it won't hurt to have a try."

And then the platter of spaghetti was nearly empty as the two of them shoveled pasta into their mouths, black globs flying onto the table cloth and staining their chins. Hermes and Delilah cheered them on, Warren took a video of them while holding in giggles, and E just seized the opportunity to continue eating in peace.

After their plates were licked clean, JP and Theodora let out satisfied sighs and leaned back in their chairs. JP let out a less-than-dainty burp.

"Dear gods, why didn't you guys tell me this existed??" Theodora exclaimed, still on a high from eating so much. Her stomach felt tight from all the food, but she didn't give a fuck about it that much.

"We didn't know when you'd ask," Delilah hummed, "but we figured it was only a matter of time. And now our waiting has come to an end."

"... What are you, oracles?"

"Not yet," Hermes replied, popping a chunk of turkey in his mouth.

As the chatter resumed, thoughts drifted lazily in her mind. It was only when Delilah was recounting how her sisters were in a party where a college freshman summoned a succubus by accident that an idea came to fruition.

One very delicious idea.

"So, I have a preposition for you folks..."

\-----

"What's taking him so long?" Heidi Turner asked her girlfriend, smoothing the edges of her tulle skirt as they waited beside the drink table inside the community center.

The potluck was a formal event hosted by the Southern Coven, and had an entry fee to help pay for the upcoming Halloween event. Everyone wore some sort of casual, yet formally sleek outfit. Even Theodora, who bit her lip as she peered at the doors, was wearing a little black dress that fell above her knees, a silvery sunhat remiscent of what Blondie usually wore, and a golden bangle. Theodora looked more like a funeral goer than the snarky, rambunctious girl people knew her to be.

Theodora sighed nervously. "He said it would take him a while to prepare so much, but he never told me how long. How am I supposed to know?"

Heidi pouted. "For someone who likes planning so much, you didn't plan for what to do with his lateness."

"You like planning, too," Theodora hummed, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, "And I don't see you getting so worried."

Heidi didn't choose to reply to that, but she reached out and squeezed her hand. She felt a squeeze back.

The doors opened and the dim lights flashed onto a hunched over figure. Screams echoed throughout the building as the guests realized that something was inside, but one of the security witches shone a flashlight on the figure, revealing it to be Warren, huffing as he tried to carry a giant pot leaking black goop.

"There you are!" Theodora sulked, rushing over to help him with the heavy pot, "What happened?"

"Sorry," Warren gasped, "Had to make enough for all these people, and it isn't that easy. Also, I had to walk all the way here."

"Where's your parents? Can't they drive you here?"

"Dad's working at the hospital and mom's doing a favor for someone. Something about a zombie dwarf loitering in his yard or something."

"... Oh, okay."

With a heavy grunt, Theodora and Warren heaved the leaking pot onto the table, black stains dripping onto the tablecloth. Theodora sighed. The last time she got the sauce on her clothes, she ended up having to ferment them in a vat of bleach that she kept in the basement in order to wash it off.

They were still in the vat of bleach, and it had been three days already.

She took the time to catch her breath before standing up straight and grinning. "Okay! Sorry about that and for the wait, but the special dish we all promised you is now here!"

Stares were aplenty.

"... What is that?"

She patted the side proudly. "None other than a dish provided by our sponsors, the Asphodels, it's..."

Theodora paused, then leaned to whisper into Warren's ear. "Uh, what is this called?"

"Demon Ink Pesto Pasta," Warren informed her.

"Demon Ink Pesto Pasta!" she announced, bouncing back into position do quickly, you'd think she was a spring. "Get as much as you like, there's enough for everybody. Enjoy your night, and don't mind the smell!"

With that, she moved off and back to Heidi, who provided her a quizzical look. "What in the world is demon ink?"

"It's probably just a fancy name for some exotic kraken ink harvested from the bottom of the ocean," Theodora shrugged, patting Heidi's back.

"... Krakens don't really exist."

"Hey, we got attached by a mecha Barbara Streisand twice, anything is possible."

Warren soon joined the two girlfriends, cups of punch in his hands. "Hey, have you seen JP? I was kind of hoping he was going to come." he asked, giving the cups to them.

Theodora shook her head. "Nope, it's his mom's birthday so they're at Casa Bonita."

"Lucky guy," he pouted as she drank, "I've always wanted to go there someday."

"We'll think of some excuse to invite you there on one of our dates," Heidi offered. Warren just shook his head, embarrassed. "No, you girls deserve your privacy. I'm not really the type to be the third wheel anyways."

They would have continued chatting were it not for a loud smash that attracted their attention. They turned their heads to look at what had caused it, seeing that the serving table was swarmed with people.

They were all crowding around the pot obsessively, yelling above themselves. Some hands were stained a deep, impossible black.

Warren grimaced. "Oh, no, I didn't dilute it enough."

Theodora looked at him, confusion on her face. "What do you mean, you didn't dilute it enough?"

"I mean I didn't dilute the demon ink thin enough."

"What do you mean, demon ink?" she asked, confusion giving way to disturbance. This was getting scary strange.

"The ink is from the body of the demon we have in our basement. We gather what it spews out into vials and-"

_ **"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE A DEMON IN YOUR BASEMENT???"** _

\-----

Heidi had chickened out at the last minute, which Theodora was grateful for at the moment.

Because she didn't like what she saw down in Warren's basement.

Right in front of them was a humanoid thing tied tightly to a chair in the middle of a pit carved into the floor. Its arms and legs were chopped off, and silky black ink that steamed the horrible stench tenfold seeped from the open holes and into the hole. Its head was gone, too, and spindly black wings with little to no feathers dangled weakly behind it. She wondered why they had to chop off the head.

Somehow, the body seemed to be sitting straight, instead of slouched over like any normal dead thing.

"Sorry if the smell isn't very pleasant," Warren apologized.

"Why the hell are you apologizing for the smell, why did your parents decide it was a good idea to keep a literal demon in the same building you sleep in??" Theodora grimaced, a hand tightly clamped over her nose.

Warren's lips pursed. "Demon ink is better served fresh, and it's great for many types of food aside from spaghetti."

She gestured her free hand wildly at the body. "Then why can't you just open a portal to Hell and buy from the locals??"

He put her hand down gently. "Portals aren't as convenient as the media says they are, and they take up a lot of energy to make. Also, this is one of the easier ways to harvest ink when they're trapped like this."

At the mention of the word 'harvest,' the body jolted, then slowly twisted towards them, as if it still had a head to see with. Theodora shuddered, feeling the chill of nonexistent eyes.

"Don't mind it, it does that sometimes."

A few more seconds were wasted with her staring back in horror at the body, before she cleared her throat. "... And how bad exactly is it with you not diluting the ink enough?"

Warren bit his lip hard, a habit he learned from her, before answering. "Demon ink, as delicious as it is, can also be an addictive substance like weed. Even when a drop of it is added to a bowl of water, its effects can still be felt somewhat. If taken as it is, it sends the taster to a sense of euphoria regular drugs can't get you to, and it has a bunch of nasty side effects."

Theodora turned to look at him. "You mean I could have gotten crazy like those retards. And how exactly aren't you affected?"

He shrugged. "Descendants like me can't be affected by substances produced by exotic beings like demons. All I taste when I eat it with food is something savory, but nothing else."

So that was how the sauce ended up too strong.

Seeing the concern of Theodora's face, Warren patted her back. "Hey, maybe they'll forget about it in a few weeks if we don't mention it? With our luck, it'll blow over sooner than you'd expect."

\-----

A few weeks later, Warren opened the door to Theodora's house, clutching a suitcase as embarrassment was aplenty on his face.

Waiting for him inside was Theodora and JP, Theodora crossing her arms over her gold patterned sweater, and JP nudging an empty bottle of beer with disgust.

"With our luck, you said?" Theodora raised an eyebrow, taking the suitcase from his hand.

Warren buried his face in his sleeve. "I'm sorry! Adults are good at guilt tripping children, okay??"

"And they threatened to kill you when you refused," JP scowled, "Don't they know drugs are illegal? Especially if they blackmail kids for it?"

"Hey, we live in South Park bud," she corrected, heading to the basement door, "Where even towels smoke kush like there's no tomorrow. No use in preaching to them."

"But still..." JP protested, but she was already unlocking the padlock with a key she pulled out from under a nearby table.

They headed downstairs, Theodora tugging a gas mask over hers and JP's faces before they reached the last step. In the small, concrete room serving as her basement, piles upon piles of suitcases flooded with cash bills laid empty. She threw it onto the pile, like many other times.

"Okay, so let's discuss the elephant in the room," she huffed, facing the two boys, "Specifically that one."

She jabbed a thumb at the demon tied at the corner of the room, resting in its chair in the middle of a deeper pit.

Three nights ago, a druggie had tried to break into the Asphodel house and drink straight from the source itself, but was instantly killed by Delilah. The cops would have been called to help out, but they were major druggies themselves, so they were distracted and practically useless.

Besides, killing home invaders was more efficient.

So, they settled for an alternative, which was to relocate the demon to where Theodora and her mom lived. Nobody really bothered to go there, not with Theodora's drunkard for a mother. And anyways, Mrs. Hamish was too busy going out and she almost never went to the basement, so there was no need for her to find out.

JP raised his hand. "I say we kill it."

Theodora immediately shot that suggestion down. "And how do we placate the town, exactly?"

"By getting them back into weed?" Warren suggested. Theodora also shot that down.

"At this point, they're probably getting on a higher note with this shit than with a bunch of smoked plant. In case you didn't know, we live in a society that consumes one major drug after another, and if a new one comes in, they abandon the one they've been using and leave thousands of businesses to rot."

"So we introduce a new drug!" JP yelled. "Get them something that leaves us the fuck alone!"

"The best we can do right now," she sighed, "Is to keep this running if we don't wanna die. Anyways, how the hell are we supposed to get a new drug?"

JP opened his mouth underneath his gas mask, then closed it just as abruptly.

Theodora uncrossed her arms. "Just as I thought."

\-----

Warren woke up from his sleep with an alarm from his phone. He groaned and rolled over, spitting hair out of his mouth as he grabbed around in the darkness. He felt the smooth touch of metal, and dragged the phone to him, checking the caller ID and the time.

Why the fuck was Theodora calling him in the middle of the night?

Groggier than ever, he pressed the green button. "Bwha?"

As soon as he answered the call, incoherent screams of panic nearly raped his ears. He turned down to volume. "Whoa, hey! My eardrums!"

"Warren! It's gone!" Theodora's voice panted, urging his eyes to widen.

"Wh-what do you mean it's gone?" he asked, worry lining his voice.

"The body! The thing! Out of its chair and my house!!"

He snapped awake, and threw himself off the bed. A boom resonated in the distance.

"Okay, I think I've got an idea!" Theodora said, "I'll meet you there, I gotta handle something!"

Warren nodded, then ran outside, tugging his jacket over his pajamas, and unlocked his bike that had been chained to the mailbox. He hopped on, and sped for the commotion that boomed louder and louder, until he arrived at what would have made a cultist cry out in fear.

It was horrible, the clawing screams of fanatics and addicts who lunged over each other, arms twisting at odd angles as they clawed their way towards the center of the chaos.

_Side effect: Limbs capable of bending at angles incapable of being reached in a normal state._

One bumped into him, and out of instinct he pushed them aside.

The thump of their body somehow drew everybody's head towards him. Shrunken eyeballs stared out of shadowy pits, right at the one who had interrupted their bickering.

_Side effect: Eyes shrinking down to less than its original size._

Warren shivered at the sight of all those tiny eyeballs, and held his hands up. "L-look, I'm not here to hurt anyone. I'm just... Uh, passing by?"

"He took the ink before," a man rasped, black stains covering his apron.

"He's going to take it away," a woman beside him, presumably his wife, hissed. Her hands clawed at her cheeks, dragging deeper into the crimson lines beneath her near hollow eyeholes.

The horde yelled louder, and lunged for him. He shrieked, and immediately ducked as they grabbed for him. He weaved through the legs of the crowd, andran as fast as he could towards the source.

More than halfway at his goal, one of them finally managed to grab his long hair, and he yelped as the tugging at his scalp threw him backwards. As he was pulled away from the center, he could see between the legs of the horde what was as the center.

Lying on its side was the demon's body, twitching as people dug into its open wounds and licked desperately at what came out.

He didn't want to die by the hands of addicts. He was too young.

Just as he had closed his eyes tight and waited for the pain to be inflicted on him, something hummed loudly.

A beam of light burst to being, and collided with the adults on top of him.

"_'Tangina!! _Nobody hurts my friend!!" Warren heard a voice yelling, and craned his head at the source of the sound.

JP and Theodora were running to his aid, both wearing gas masks and still in their pajamas as well. JP held in one arm a third mask, and his other arm was held outwards and split apart to reveal a glowing light canon.

"It's fine, Warren!" Theodora reassured him as he got up and ran towards them, "He managed to set it to stun!"

Warren cried out in relief, and threw himself at them in a big hug. "I was about to die, where were you??"

"I was coming up with this," she answered, holding up with her arm that wasn't trapped in the hug a ball of... Something. It smelled funny, but familiar.

"Is that supposed to be a bomb?"

"Yeah, now can you please get out of the way? I need to aim correctly" she gasped out, his hug now threateningly tight. JP rasped for help like a goldfish under his mask.

Warren apologized, then pulled away. As Theodora aimed the ball at the sky, JP handed him the gas mask, eyeing the approaching horde uneasily. "Here, put it on."

"Okay, but why?" he asked, strapping it on.

"You'll see."

The ball flew into the sky a graceful arc, and they braced themselves for whatever Theodora had planned.

"Hey, Warren?" Theodora asked.

"Yeah?"

"On second thought, maybe they are better off with your suggestion."

He didn't understand what she said at first, but just as the ball arced towards the center, Warren realized what that smell was.

The smell of marijuana and demon ink.

A blazing ball of fire formed in Theodora's hand, and she threw it at where the two would meet.

The streets bloomed with fiery hot colors as the makeshift explosive hit the demon.

The horde yelled out and scrambled away from the flames. The three friends just stood where they were, witnessing the spectacle. As they watched, people collapsed as the fumes of the burning weed reached them, overwhelming with the addition of demon ink. All that was left standing after a few minutes was them, surrounded my unconscious adults.

"... I guess it was about time we got rid of it. Maybe now they'll forget about the ink?" Warren hoped.

He was smacked at the back of his sore head. "Don't jinx it."

"Ow!"


	3. POGtopia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JP introduces POGs to the school and ignites a grand POG empire. Theodora can't find her favorite earrings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry with how late this chapter had to come out! Last week was a whirlwind of bullshit and while I can safely say I can handle it, I will be temporarily be changing the update schedule. Expect updates every Monday for now, and see you soon!

E frowned as his game pieces clattered away, JP whispering congratulations to himself as he collected them.

"Why am I bad at this game?" He asked, and JP looked up from what he was doing.

"You're just getting started," he reassured him, "either that or I'm still just as good from before moving here."

They were in the playground playing a game with little discs JP said were called POGs. Right now, JP had won three times in a row already, while E had yet to take himself a win.

E hugged his knees, his beloved shovel lying on the ground next to him. "But does that mean I'm actually good at this game?"

JP shrugged. "Probably. We'll have to ask someone to prove it." He then handed E back his few remaining POGs. "Have them back, I kinda feel bad for you."

"Thanks," he muttered, clutching the pieces to his chest as JP got up and got a boy standing off to the side to join them.

"Hey, he said you guys were playing a game?" The boy asked, presumably Dogpoo if he remembered correctly. "Can I try?"

"Sure!" JP smirked, pulling out some of his own POG pieces out of his pocket and placing them onto Dogpoo's hand. "We could use more company anyways."

"Neat!" Dogpoo sat down across E, who regarded him with curiosity. "So, uh, how do you play this game?"

JP cracked his knuckles, the glint of a veteran player shining in his eyes. "I'll give you a quick tutorial and then you guys can play seriously."

From how JP explained it, POGs were how kids back from where he came from gambled. One of two kids stacked his betting pile of POGs up, and then they would both throw their shooting POGs at the pile. The one who got the most POGs to flip up to their tail sides got to keep them, and the one with the most POGs at the end of the round won.

Soon, E and Dogpoo were really into it, Dogpoo asking for more until JP was clutching onto his only lucky POG while E toppled pile after pile.

"Damn, this game is hard!" Dogpoo remarked after his seventeenth fail.

"What makes it hard is the determination of the players," E corrected him, "not the gameplay itself."

Dogpoo got up and stretched, then handed back his last remaining POGs to JP. "I'd like to play against you back at school, sometime! This is kinda fun, I'll admit."

JP laughed. "Hah! Good luck, and you better bring your own."

"I will. Seeya!" and with that, he ran off, as it was already approaching nighttime.

"... E, don't think those POGs are automatically yours, either. You got to give them back."

"I would kill you right on the spot and keep your POGs," E said, handing them over anyways, "But then Warren would be sad."

\-----

News spread fast around the school, and soon JP was handling kid after kid who wanted to try their hand at the game.

"Aren't you getting tired of this?" Warren asked, questionably swallowing a large chunk from his fifth serving of cafeteria food.

JP shook his head, and effortlessly smashed the pile a girl across him had set up already. "Nope. It feels good to be back."

"Aw!" the girl pouted, but shook his hand anyways and left with her remaining POGs, another kid taking her place.

"I gotta admit, though," JP said, stacking his up and watching the guy across him knock off a few, "it's kind of annoying having everyone come up to me only."

"Then why don't you make them just compete with each other?" Theodora huffed, texting Heidi who was on the other side of the cafeteria with her friends. She giggled to herself as she received a funny video of Cartman dressed as a pig.

JP considered this.

Then he stood up on the table and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Hey, everyone!" he yelled, "Go play with each other, _na lang_!"

Kids stared at him. "... What's nae laeng mean?"

"Just fucking leave me alone, I want to eat."

Murmurs rose amongst the crowd, before the line at his table dispersed and kids drew out their POGs against each other.

"I feel like this is going to be the start of something convoluted," Warren murmured to his mashed potatoes as JP got down.

\-----

Warren's prediction was right. In less than a week, the entire school had a miniature economy entirely run by POGs.

Most deals were settled with a POG battle, and more and more kids were walking away with something else than plastic discs in their pockets in the case someone won a bet. There were even plans for an actual market to be set up this Friday.

Which meant that it made things harder for Theodora whenever she passed through the halls.

"Stupid monkey balled skanks," she muttered under her breath, squeezing through the sixth crowd she was forced to encounter that afternoon, "why can't they just play that stupid game outside?"

This wasn't indicating that she was bad at playing POGs. In fact, she was one of the actually competent players, like Dogpoo and (surprisingly enough) Cartman. She was just frustrated at all the commotion and excitement of other (admittably useless) kids when a match was at play.

"They all act as if it's an exotic sport," she continued her huffy tirade to herself, "Than as if it was something they've been playing for a couple of days already."

She muttered some more decidedly exotic names herself as she reached her locker and twisted the dial. Inside, more prominently part of the locker than the textbooks and calculus exercises, was part of her earring collection. It was Theodora's pride and joy, only second to her founding the Southern Coven, and was so massive that when she ran out of space in her walk-in closet, she had to move some of it to school.

And by her definition of "some," it meant that the walls were covered head to toe in dangling metal, some silver or gold, others more vibrant and colorful, all of them signifying her as an earrings connoisseus. Her taste in earrings was far more defined than her basic grasp of fashion.

Deciding that her favorite pair of earrings would cheer her up, she undid the ones she wore right now, black summoning circles twirling in the air from silver chains with a deep blue shimmer, and put them in their place, then reached inside for the other pair of earrings.

But all her hand got was a whole bunch of nothing. A gap where a certain pair of earrings made to look like kitchen knives dangling from thin nylon ropes instead took their place.

Theodora's eye twitched.

\-----

JP felt kind of exasperated when someone tapped his shoulder. "Can I talk to you?"

He turned around with a scowl, crouching on the floor with a tall stack and Stan Marsh in front of him. "What now, Theo? I'm trying to win both his rare Terrance and Phillip POGs and his old football."

"Post a selfie on your Instagram with your scraps of war for me later," Theodora said, crossing her arms, "but I wanna know where my earrings are right now."

She had intercepted him in one of the new gambling sites, aka an abandoned classroom nobody used up till now. Other kids were sitting around desks or on the floor like JP and Stan were, all of them gambling for possessions and POGs to add to their inventory.

"Gesundheit," JP shrugged, shooting his piece. It flipped over a few tails, and Stan moved in for his turn. "I'm not Vice Ganda on a budget, there's no way I'd steal any of your earrings."

Theodora frowned. "I have no idea who that pigfaced whore is, but I ain't buying it."

"Then go antagonize those Vamps you keep slaughtering every other day," he brushed off, "but leave me out of your fashion blights. I just wanna work on my collection."

Stan hit the stack but ended up with only four tails, signaling for him to move for his turn. He flicked his shooting piece, and the whole stack toppled over in a symphony of clicks. Most of them were showing up as tails, including the ones JP was hoping to win. Stan stared dejectedly, as he always did nowadays. "Dude, you really have no mercy, don't you?"

JP just smirked and held out his hand. "A deal's a deal."

Stan sighed, but handed him over his POGs anyways. "I'll get you my football tomorrow, I wanna give it my goodbyes," he said, his request unheard over JP's fanatical muttering as he counted the POG pieces.

Theodora decided that getting JP out of his current state of mind was useless, and walked away. Possibly to bully someone into giving back her earrings.

\-----

That Friday, rickety market stalls covered every inch of the basketball court near the playground, where JP had first introduced the game.

Each stall had various valuables being offered. Some had special wallets and coin purses, some had food and drinks for fanatic players exhausted from playing so much, but the real stars of the show were the stalls selling POGs of every kind. Some had Terrance and Phillip POGs, some had POGs imported straight from the Philippines as per JP's request, and there was a stall where a kid could just pay the attending vendor like a normal person and get themselves some custom POGs. One stall sold exclusive Yaoi POGs, most of the imagery emblazoned being of the ever popular Creek.

That stall was very popular with the girls, and it sold out quickly.

Most of the sales were done with coins in place of POGs, to assure everyone that these items still had some sort of monetary value, but the players were assured both more money and the item they were gambling for, so it was more one sided in terms of the deal. The lucky ones and the veteran players walked away with more cash and a pouch or something, while the vendors had to ask the other guys to lend them their coins in order to keep selling. Some stalls closed early despite not having sold much, as the vendors had run out of coins to gamble with.

Off to the side where kids were taking a break from gambling, JP was trying to console a kid named Butters, who was down to only three cents.

"You don't understand," Butters wailed, "My dad's gonna have me grounded if he finds out all my money is gone!"

"For the last time," JP huffed, "He won't find out if you don't tell him. You just gotta know when to sneak around him and how quiet you gotta be."

Butters sniffled. "R-really?"

"Really." JP got out one of the many pouches stuffed in his backpack and offered it to him, the pouch bulging with its contents. "In the meantime, I won an entire collection of Terrance and Phillip POGs out of boredom, but I've already got the same thing in my room so I don't need them. You can have it."

The pouch dropped onto his lap, and Butters grabbed it and stared in awe, as if it were a valuable artifact from God themself.

Which was kind of accurate, as JP was the God in this scenario, and despite the fact that he absolutely hated it when someone compared him to godliness as a compliment, that was the only thing I could think of when writing this down.

Sorry.

Continuing on, the two boys suddenly overheard a certain girl scream in anger. _**"I KNEW IT WAS YOU, YOU BULLSHITTING PELICAN SON OF A WHORE FACTORY! YOU FUCKING CUNT LICKING-"**_

It was definetly Theodora, as it was only her in the entire town who was capable of belting out such vibrant curses. It was only confirmed further when the two boys pushed through the crowd and came across the dark skinned redhead in a heavily studded leather jacket, trying to claw apart the smug faced and ever despicable Allison Mud. The only thing holding her back from melting his face (literally) was Blondie and a Fifth grader girl with black clothes and hair who he recognized as Daria Wittenburg.

Allison caught JP out of the corner of his eye and turned to greet him with a smile, crooked teeth apepper with cavities flashing themselves to the world like drag queen prostitutes. "Hey, brown boy! Great seeing you again, I thought you were carted away to the detention camps!"

"I'm not Mexican, I'm fucking Filipino!" JP yelled, nowhere near pleased to be noticed by Allison. "Now shut up and tell me what's going on before I feel the need to zap off your hairy ox balls!"

Some people in the crowd laughed nervously, but JP glared at them at full force. He meant it. He really did.

Allison puffed his chest out. "Well, you see, me and Black Girl over there-" he jabbed his thumb at Theodora, who only responded by cursing louder, "- We were only playing a silly game for one of her many trinkets that she's been hoarding up, and she had the nerve to cheat on me! Made me look like a noob! So I declared that I was going to take the prize anyways, since she was going to rub her cheated win on my social status either way."

At that extremely bullshit lie for a story, Theodora gasped, then bellowed louder than anybody had ever heard her go. "How **DARE** you call JP's game silly! How **DARE** you call my earrings trinkets! How **DARE** you call my collection a hoard! How **DARE** you call me a cheater! Does it look like you even have a _**FUCKING**_ social status in the first place, you _**SATAN-BE-DAMNED PILE OF ORGANS**_, you **_RECYCLED ASSPLUG,_ **you _**DIARRHEA INHALING LITTLE WEASEL SHITFACE OF A GOOD FOR NOTHING, UGLY, UNLOVED, GOD-FORBIDDEN RETARD, SLIMY SLUGFACED SLUT, UUNEDUCATED DICKCHEESE EATING MONKEYTURD OF A THIEF!**_"

With every curse and accusation she puked out, she inched closer and closer until she was spitting straight into his face, Blondie and Daria having long given up on holding the sailor mouthed girl.

All Allison could offer was a raised eyebrow. "How cute."

She growled like a hungry wolf, and lunged for his neck, when she was given the world's loudest bitchslap from JP, launching her a good few feet from her target and leaving a mark on her face that thankfully didn't start bleeding.

Then JP turned to face Allison and gave him a bitchslap, too, louder than the first one but not capable of launching him to the sky like he was secretly hoping for. That prompted a proper howl from him.

"Why don't you just settle this with a fair game of POGs?" he suggested calmly, setting his hands on his hips and giving a fierce look at both kids that would make his own mother proud.

Theodora was about to protest, but then saw that JP was unhooking his belt. The look on his face only solidified further, saying that he didn't need cyborg cannon arms to beat the crap out of her.

She wasn't in the mood to be whipped by an angry Filipino boy, so she begrudgingly pulled out her pouch of POGs from her jacket. "Fine."

Within seconds, the pile was stacked, her earrings now in possession of JP, who was acting as the referee of the match just to satisfy Allison. Out of guilt for hurting Theodora (bitchslapping friends was kind of a no-no), he was sanitizing it with a bottle of alcohol and tissues, removing any booger crusts Allison may or may not have left on them.

"You know the rules, everybody!" he announced, his voice booming. "Each player gets a go at the stack. Whoever gets the most tails at the end of the game gets the-"

"Yeah, yeah," Theodora interrupted, gripping her shooter tightly in her hand, "They get the pieces and the earrings."

Since JP was allowing her to go first, she readied her big throw. All first throws had to be big or there was no point in getting first throw at all. Across her, Allison snickered.

"What now?" she growled. Bad move, allowing him to speak only made whatever he was about to say be even more insulting.

"_You look stupid._"

This simple comment was all it took to get her over the edge.

She stood up, whipped her arm back as if she were a baseball player, and slammed the plastic disc onto the ground.

The sheer chaos of that blow was incomprehensible in the first millisecond it happened. Not only did it ricochet against the concrete and through the stack like a knife through room temperature butter, but it also leaped into the air and bounced off multiple surfaces like a cartoon bullet, kids screaming as they ran to dodge the runaway shooter. It knocked over multiple displays and didn't show any signs of stopping, and when it did stop Theodora wished she could die on the spot.

Everyone stared in disbelief as the butterfly effect of her big throw ended up with a tree being slammed into hard enough (by a miniature UFO the size of a shoebox, itfar sharper than an axe blade) to nearly cut it in half, and the loud creaking splintering of wood made them all cringe.

The tree fell over with a mighty groan, towards Mayor McDaniels being escorted by her aides for her afternoon stroll, and Theodora couldn't help but admit that she jumped a solid ten inches into the air as McDaniels's bloodcurdling scream blasted out as the tree trunk fell onto her toes.

"... It was his fault!" They all yelled, everyone agreeing on sync for once as they all pointed fingers at Allison.

\-----

"... So yeah," Theodora concluded, "That's how I'm now under house arrest."

"For the Moon's sake, I go home for a week because of a cold, and _this_ is what I come back to?" Warren sighed, his voice muffled by his surgical mask. A sign that his father Hermes Asphodel was looking out for his son's health. At least he didn't smell like goat cheese, like the time he got coated in blood, feces, and mud from wrestling baby Manbearpigs to prove his manliness (long story), and Hermes freaked out so badly he ordered him to sit in the bathtub, filled it to the brim with goat milk (how he got that much is a longer story), and told him to sit there for two hours.

At least his skin was smooth.

"Yep." She took her homework from his hands and flipped through them. "I'm surprised that the teachers asked you to send this to me and not that Task Luck Club group or something."

Warren shrugged, a habit he learned from JP. "They said they were on hiatus or something. I'm even more surprised that you're not putting the Coven on hiatus until next week, when you get out."

Theodora grimaced. "The Coven's a method of escape for some of its members. Me, denying them their safe space? Not likely. "

He laughed, earning a scowl from her that he brushed off. "And this is coming from a girl who tells secrets like a parrot and gets into more trouble than a literal descendant of a Lesser God."

"Hey, what can I say? I gotta keep everyone on their toes, and if you're not going to do that, it's my job now."

They laughed some more, and decided to keep chatting in her room, since the living room now contained a passed out Mrs. Hamish. Warren wanted to greet her, but he doubted that she'd be in a good mood when she woke up.

Theodora pouted when he told her the news of what happened to the POG market. "And JP's grounded, too, but only until you're out of house arrest."

She grimaced again and hugged a pillow close to her chest. "Gods, the mayor really banned POGs?"

"Well, you did crush her toes."

She sighed, and fell back on her bed.

"... Hey, Warren?"

"Yeah?"

"You deserve a better SBF."

"No, I'd very much rather be stuck with you."

"... Thanks."

**Author's Note:**

> Updates are temporarily going to be every Monday!


End file.
